


tug of war

by spookykingdomstarlight



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Arguments, Casual Relationships Becoming Something More, Developing Relationship, F/M, M/M, Multi, Oblivious Wedge Antilles, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Pre-Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Relationship Negotiation, Wedge Antilles Doesn't Want To Be Involved In Shenanigans, and yet here he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-08-27 19:38:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16708765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/pseuds/spookykingdomstarlight
Summary: He didn’t dare lift his palms as he backed away, fearing the color might draw one or the other’s attention. So far they only had eyes for each other. And given how many daggers they were glaring, he was relieved for that single-minded focus. If something he definitely didn’t call envy twinged somewhere in the vicinity of his heart, he could quash it down and forget about it entirely. That would be for the best anyway. There wasn’t room between them for anyone else, never mind that Wedge had somehow lucked his way into knowing and caring about both of them prior to either of them knowing each other.





	tug of war

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SassySnowperson (DramaticEntrance)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramaticEntrance/gifts).



Some days, just about the only thing Wedge had going for him was a solid head on his shoulders. That shouldn’t have been saying much, but given the people he surrounded himself with on a daily basis, a solid head was unusual. Not necessarily welcome from the glares he sometimes got when he stepped in and put his foot down on the latest round of nonsense, but valued since he kept getting promoted when he didn’t want to be. But that was a digression and a pointless one. The important thing here was he’d just stepped into the hallway—as though Echo Base wasn’t just one long, icy, skinny, impossible to pass hallway—and found himself confronted with both Leia Organa and Han Solo in the middle of it and they were fighting very, very loudly and he desperately wanted to be anywhere but where he was.

Wincing, he glanced down at his flight suit. Orange as hell it was. And highly visible against the stark white walls.

He didn’t dare lift his palms as he backed away, fearing the color might draw one or the other’s attention. So far they only had eyes for each other. And given how many daggers they were glaring, he was relieved for that single-minded focus. If something he definitely didn’t call envy twinged somewhere in the vicinity of his heart, he could quash it down and forget about it entirely. That would be for the best anyway. There wasn’t room between them for anyone else, never mind that Wedge had somehow lucked his way into knowing and caring about both of them prior to either of them knowing each other.

Too bad his boot creaked at the exact wrong moment. He might’ve gotten away with it if not for that.

“Wedge!” Han said, a relieved smile breaking out across his mouth, bright and warm and welcoming. It shouldn’t have worked on a guy like Wedge, steady, level Wedge, but that smile had gotten to him a long, time ago and had never quite left. “Just the man I wanted to see.” His eyes widened and Wedge imagined he would’ve mouthed ‘play along please’ if Leia’s attention wasn’t so firmly on him.

“Uh,” Wedge said, eloquent as always. “Hi, yeah. I feel like that is—uh. No.” His eyes skirted to Leia’s face, trying to ascertain how much of the furor in her gaze was now going to be directed his way. Probably not much. Leia knew him and, more than that, she liked him. And he liked her, too, sometimes too much. Though they hadn’t exactly done anything about it in a long, long time. Not since before Han showed up. Wedge wasn’t oblivious; he could read the room as good as any of ‘em and knew exactly what that meant. He was fine with it. Really. They were both good people and one day they might actually believe that about one another, too. “I don’t think I’m the man anyone wanted to see, Han. Least of all you right now.” He tried to smile and maybe it worked. The dubious downward slant of Leia’s mouth suggested it wasn’t quite as successful as he maybe wanted it to be. “Good luck though.”

Han lunged for him, grabbing him by one of the straps that was meant to help save Wedge from death in the event he had to eject in low atmo. Right now, he was cursing the damned things. “No, I think you were the man I was looking for. Isn’t that right, Leia?”

He was relieved when Han let go of him and rewarded it by not immediately booking it. Lover’s squabbles had never been his thing. They more than had that covered and he definitely didn’t want to be involved in it. Didn’t want to be a pawn or a weapon.

“I suppose,” Leia answered, eyes narrowing in consideration. Her voice was low, still unhappy. “Is it true you and this moon jock go back?”

“That’s not what you were arguing about, was it?” Wedge fought the blush that rose on his cheeks with the determination of a thousand X-wing pilots doing their damnedest to take down a squad of TIE fighters. It did not stop his skin from heating up with embarrassment. Groaning, he dragged his hand across his face. “Maybe so, ma’am.”

“Ha,” Han said, far too pleased with himself. It didn’t seem fair that Wedge was the only one who had to desperately clamor for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. They should suffer a bit for it, too.

Leia raised her hand. “First names for this conversation, Wedge.”

He closed his eyes briefly. Damn. He couldn’t even retreat behind protocol for this one. He really was kriffed. “We know each other,” he clarified without clarifying. Leia was smart. She’d know exactly what that meant. He didn’t dare look at Han as he said it for fear of giving the gig up entirely. It wasn’t his place now; he knew that. Whatever it was they were doing here, they needed to work it out themselves. Getting Wedge involved wasn’t a part of the plan. “Anything else you needed to know?”

An odd expression crossed Leia’s face, something like fondness maybe and exasperation. It wasn’t such an unusual one, though it had grown a bit rare of late. She used to give it to him all the time whenever she asked him to spend time with her and he always, without fail, found himself flustered by the attention.

“Yeah,” Han interjected, thumb wagging in Leia’s direction, “when were you planning on telling me you and her…”

Wedge’s head turned this way and that. Thank the Force this hall was abandoned. This was already way, way too much for him; they didn’t need to go involving Leia’s personal business in it. “Shh,” he said, hissing, grabbing Han and shoving him toward the nearest door. Slamming his palm against the control panel, he prayed to every deity in the known galaxy that there wasn’t anyone inside the room. “Have some respect. This place runs on gossip. You don’t need to make it any easier by shouting people’s business in the halls.”

Leia trailed after them, her hands on her hips. “You can answer him, Wedge,” she said, dry and affectionate, and it just wasn’t fair that she could still be that way toward him when clearly she’d seen the same shit in Han Wedge did—and fell for it, too. “I’ve already let that particular lothcat out of the bag.”

“Never,” he said quickly. “It wasn’t my story to share.” His eyes found Leia’s for a moment and he felt a pang of his old passion for her. It mixed and merged with the respect and loyalty he felt even more deeply today than the last time they were together. She was truly something special. It didn’t surprise Wedge in the slightest that Han picked up on it. “It’s not my business to go around… I don’t even know. Talking about it.”

“Really?” Han said, planting his own hands on his hips in direct parallel to Leia. They really were a pair. And they looked good together, Wedge couldn’t deny that even though he very much wanted to. It would be easier if he could.

But he’d never once in his life made things easy on himself, so he wasn’t surprised when he didn’t start now. He tipped his chin up and arched an eyebrow. If Han was going to be stubborn, so could Wedge be. “Yeah. Really. I didn’t want to make it seem like I was trying to—” His throat seized up as he tried to finish the thought, just get it out there, easy as pulling a spent bacta patch from a healed up wound. “It wasn’t my place. I didn’t want either of you thinking I was trying to stake a claim, okay? That’s why I never mentioned anything. To either of you. I get it. You don’t need to…”

“Don’t need to what?” Leia asked as she took a step toward him. Every inch of him wanted to step toward her, too, but all he could do was take a step back instead, put some distance between them. It was easy, it would be so easy, to get drawn into her and Han’s wake, let them pepper him with questions while he hoped they reached some sort of conclusion that didn’t exclude him entirely. They probably didn’t think they were playing a game, but Wedge could see himself becoming the rope in this tug of war of theirs. He didn’t want that. Not for himself and not for them.

They’d figure themselves out eventually and then they’d be great for each other and they’d be happy.

Wedge could be happy for them, too, from somewhere on the opposite side of Echo Base, maybe even further away if Wedge got lucky and they ever got off this rock.

“You don’t need to worry about me.” Wincing, Wedge stared up at the ceiling and drew in a deep breath. How staggeringly arrogant to think either of them would. They’d all had fun a few times. That was all.

Maybe being cooped up in Echo Base was finally getting to him. That happened to people. Normally, though, it just ended in arguments that were quickly smoothed over—like Han and Leia’s—and not with embarrassing confessions and suggestions that they should give a damn how Wedge felt about their… thing. Whatever it was.

Han and Leia exchanged incredulous looks, both of their mouths falling open, turning this whole incident into an even more mortifying event than it already was. Truly, Wedge was ready for the floor to open up at any moment and fix this problem for him. Han made a shooing gesture at Leia and she shrugged back at him and Wedge was perfectly happy to get the hell out of here and go back to his quarters. Like he was planning. Because his shift was over and he was tired and he was still wearing this ridiculous orange suit and it was too damned cold to be standing around like this and he didn’t want to look at either of them right now. Or ever at this rate.

“Listen.” Raising his hands to ward the pair of them off, Wedge angled for the door. “Nothing has to change here, right? You two can go back to—flirting or whatever it is you call these arguments you always have and I’ll go back to my room. We’ll forget this ever happened.”

“Flirting?” Leia scoffed and glanced at Han and then back at Wedge. “That is not what we’re—Han and I don’t flirt.”

“Uh… huh.” Wedge cleared his throat. “You haven’t met many people from Corellia, have you?”

“I’ve met you.”

That was true, Wedge supposed, and though he was still on the verge of disappearing into the floor in his embarrassment, he couldn’t help but smile a little bit, too. He did his best to bite it back, though. Something told him Leia wouldn’t appreciate it very much. She rarely did when it came to Han.

“There aren’t a lot of Corellians like Wedge,” Han said before Wedge could think of the right way to get across the fact that, uh, yeah. Arguing was kind of the default mode of flirtation for Corellians the galaxy over. And he sounded so fond that a lump formed in Wedge’s throat. It was absolutely ridiculous that anything like that should have an affect on Wedge and yet here he was, definitely feeling as though he was getting punched in the gut. He missed Han and he missed Leia and he didn’t know how to extricate himself from this when neither of them would let him leave this room gracefully. “Somewhere along the way he found good manners and made you think we were all like that.”

“I think what Han’s trying to say is he was definitely flirting,” Wedge replied, pleased to see a flush starting to creep over Han’s features. Good. Let him suffer some embarrassment for once. He was so shameless it would probably slide off him again in a few minutes anyway, not like Wedge, who’d probably have to live with it for a while. It was enough to give Wedge some confidence and a means to get out of this conversation though. Turn it back around on them. Let them squirm. Might do them some good to clear the air. “And you don’t make a habit of fighting with people, so I imagine you get something out of it, too, Leia. Maybe you oughta take each other out to dinner. I hear there’s a nice cantina right down the hallway out there.”

Leia’s expression grew determined. And not a little thunderous. She narrowed her eyes and now she was the one holding Wedge by the straps of his flight suit. “I’ll only agree to that if you come with us,” she said.

Wedge’s eyes widened. That wasn’t a part of the plan, no. Not at all. He wanted to believe she didn’t know what she was saying, but Leia had never been stupid. If she wasn’t trying to deny to Wedge that she and Han were flirting, then she knew that was exactly what they’d been doing. And she wasn’t the sort to invite a third wheel just for the hell of it. “Leia, come on. That’s…”

“A great idea,” Han said before Wedge could call it what it actually was: a stupendously bad idea. Just—really the absolute worst idea anyone could have come up with. For that reason alone, he was surprised it was one of Leia’s. “What do you say, hotshot? Have dinner with us.”

“Uh.” Crap. This was not at all how he thought this was going to go. And even as he imagined every possible argument he could make, he saw them shooting each and every one of them down. Wedge was known a bit for snatching victory from the jaws of defeat, but even he knew when he’d lost. Even so, a small, minuscule, very tiny part of him was maybe happy at the development. “You really want…? With me?”

“Yeah, Wedge,” Leia replied, warm again, composed. Lovely as she ever was. It made Wedge’s heart ache just to look at her. And the way Han was looking at both of them, like maybe he was the luckiest guy on the entire planet, that made Wedge ache, too. “I think we’d like that.”

“I’d definitely like it,” Han said, throwing his arms around both Leia and Wedge’s shoulders. For once, she didn’t seem to shrink from his touch. In fact, she managed to smile at him and it wasn’t one of the smiles where she looked like what she really wanted to do was throttle you.

“And this is… because of me?”

“Maybe a little bit,” Leia said. “If you like Han, he can’t be all bad, can he?”

Wedge opened his mouth and closed it again. There was no point fighting with her even though he was pretty sure she already thought he wasn’t all bad as it was. Maybe get through dinner first before he started letting them in on a secret they’d apparently been keeping from themselves.

“No,” Wedge agreed, peaceably. “He’s not.”

If, later, they began spending a whole lot more time together, that was between the three of them and the three of them alone.

Wedge was perfectly happy keeping them to himself.


End file.
